Once in a Lifetime(82)

“I’m going to fight for him.”

“Yeah, you are,” Leah said, and put up her fists, once again nearly hitting herself in the face.

“Careful, Tiger,” Jack said into the rearview mirror. “How much did you all drink?”

“Not enough,” Aubrey said as he parked in front of the duplex. Ben’s truck was in the driveway, and her heart kicked up a notch at the sight of it.

“No eavesdropping,” she said to her posse, and got out of the car.

There in the dark, she stood on the sidewalk a moment, gathering her scattered thoughts. In her peripheral vision, she saw Ali, Leah, and Jack tiptoe into Jack’s house, and she breathed a sigh of relief, grateful there’d be no witnesses for this.

Chin up, she strode to Ben’s front door and knocked.

No response; nothing but a gaping silence.

Aubrey knocked again, with a fist this time, matching the rhythm of her pounding heart.

More silence.

She backed up, to the grass yard. Picking up a small rock, she aimed it at Ben’s upstairs bedroom window, and then heard the little tink that told her she’d hit her mark.

The window opened, and Ben stuck his head out. “What the hell?”

“I want to talk to you,” Aubrey said.

He took this in for a beat. “There’s this newfangled thing called a phone…”

Good point. Why hadn’t she just called him? Her thoughts scattered on the wind. Damn that Scotch, slowing her thought process. “I know it’s late,” she said, craning her neck to try to see him. “But you should know something.”

“That you’ve got a good arm?”

She wished she could see his expression. “I wanted to say that the only way I can be the kind of person I want to be is to acknowledge the person I was.” Her tenuous balance gave way then, and she stumbled back a few steps, nearly toppling over. The damn boots. They didn’t go with Scotch. By the time she looked up to Ben’s window again, he was gone.

“Fine,” she said and crouched low to look for another rock. Not a large one to bean him over the head with—though that had a lot of appeal—but another small one for his window. She wanted to get his attention, not get arrested.

Then, behind her, Ben’s front door opened, and she nearly fell onto her butt. He was wearing a pair of low-slung black knit boxers and nothing else but sheer male perfection. His hair was mussed, his eyes heavy-lidded, and he had a way-past-five-o’clock shadow. Unable to stop herself, she let her gaze run south, over the ripples of his abs, the ridge of his obliques, which were bisected by a trail of dark silky hair that disappeared beneath those deliciously indecent low shorts.

In spite of the frigid air, she felt herself begin to heat from the inside out. She had to swallow hard to keep her heart from jumping right out of her throat. When she finally managed to look into his face again, he arched a dark brow.

And just like that, her temper kicked back in. “I have more to say to you,” she said.

“You’ve been drinking.”

She pointed at him. “Yes.” She paused and tried to gather more of her wayward thoughts. “But that has no bearing on this.”

He said nothing, just leaned against the doorway. He had a scar she’d never noticed before over one pec—one really great pec—and she wondered where he’d gotten it, and if it’d hurt. And if she could kiss it—



“Aubrey,” he said.

She met his gaze. Right. She had things to say. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t sleep with you to make amends. I slept with you because I wanted to.”

He still didn’t say anything, and she pointed at him again. “And you know what? It was your own damn fault. It was those jeans you wear, and the tool belt. It was the size of your hammer!”

From off to the side came a few commingled gasps of shocked laughter, and both Ben and Aubrey turned to look.

Jack’s front window was open, and three faces were pressed up to the screen.

Ali, Leah, and Jack. The Three Stooges, though only two of them were drunk as skunks.

Aubrey narrowed her eyes and shooed them, but no one shooed. “I said no eavesdropping!”

“Jack’s window just happened to be open,” Leah said. “So really, that’s not eavesdropping. At least not technically. Because technically—”

Jack put his hand over her mouth and shut the window, though none of them moved away.

Ben gave them a single hard look, and Jack grinned. But he did lower the shade on the window, leaving them alone.

Ben turned back to Aubrey. “The size of my hammer?”

Yeah…she couldn’t believe she’d said that, either. She opted to try to find the moral high ground and lifted her chin. “You’re missing my point.”

He crossed his arms over the chest that she wanted to lick from the sternum to the edge of his boxers and beyond.

Focus, she ordered herself. “I couldn’t help myself,” she said. “Being with you. I knew it was a bad idea. Hell, you knew it was a bad idea. And yet we did it. We both did it, Ben.”

He continued to just look at her, and this reminded her that she was mad. “Look,” she said. “I’m tired of you not saying anything. So stop being quiet and speak up.”

“I’m used to quiet.”